


Happy Hanukkah, Detective Zimmerman

by Spiegatrix_Lestrange



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 70s feminism references, BAMF Rey, Birthday Party, Christmas, F/M, Flip Zimmerman is an overly professional cupcake, Hanukkah, Mutual Pining, alternative universe - 1975, misuse of detective skills, not serious enough considering the context, this is how detectives should woo each other in my brain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 20:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17050457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiegatrix_Lestrange/pseuds/Spiegatrix_Lestrange
Summary: By the end of 1975, the police department of Colorado Springs was now used to a quite unprecedented amount of new, refreshing, modern officers.If the hiring of Ron Stallworth as the first black officer of the department at the beginning of 1972 hasn’t been shocking enough, in the summer of 1974 a new recruit joined the ranks, making quite a few eyebrows arch in disbelief around town.The new officer, a proper field agent with a uniform, a gun, and a proper training, was, in fact, a woman.And what a woman.





	Happy Hanukkah, Detective Zimmerman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AKnightOfWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfWren/gifts).



> This work is for a person I really admire, and I'm so happy I got the chance to write something for her. You, dear, really deserve the best <3 I know my writing isn't much, but I still hope it could give you a bit of Holiday Cheer <3 I wish you the best Christmas/Hanukkah/Winter Solstice ever!

By the end of 1975, the police department of Colorado Springs was now used to a quite unprecedented amount of new, refreshing, modern officers.

 

If the hiring of Ron Stallworth as the first black officer of the department at the beginning of 1972 hasn’t been shocking enough, in the summer of 1974 a new recruit joined the ranks, making quite a few eyebrows arch in disbelief around town.

 

The new officer, a proper field agent with a uniform, a gun, and a proper training, was, in fact, a woman.

 

And what a woman.

 

Rey Niima was twenty-five years old, the top of her class, sharp-minded, with a sassy mouth and pretty as the sun.   
  
She wore her chestnut hair cut in a soft bob-cut right under her elegant jawline, attentive, clever hazel eyes, a tiny, adorable nose and an almost illegal amount of the cutest freckles ever on golden, sunkissed skin.

 

Not that women in the police were exactly rare, but most of them ended up in desk-duty early on, and Flip Zimmerman was sure as hell that none of them had ever been as pretty as Agent Niima.

 

By the first week of December 1975 Flip had memorized the considerable amount of details he noticed about her: she liked her coffee black with four spoons of sugar, her usual lunch was peanut butter and jelly sandwich, she was very fond of the small cactus on her desk and she loved spy novels, or at least she usually carried around at least one of those to read during breaks.

 

She kept to herself, probably because most officers kept calling her ‘doll’ or ‘honey’ and asking her to bring them coffee.

 

Her arrest record was impressive though, better than a majority of those assholes, and she was good with cars, like, very good. She had fixed at least three patrol cars in as many months.

 

In other words, she was the perfect woman. Flip couldn't do much but stare at her from behind the newspaper and occasionally sigh, trying hard to hide his frustration or the love-sick eyes which risked to showing up on his face every time she entered a room.

 

He was supposed to be good at this. He had been undercover for months. Lying was supposed to be a second nature to him but for some reason, in this particular instance, he was helpless. It was not like he could ask her out or anything. After all, he was her direct superior and a relationship in the workplace would have been out of question.

 

He knew he was in trouble the time Rey brought in a drunk biker actually twice her size dragging him by his huge arm with the same determination of a wolf dragging his prey in the forest. If someone would have come closer to offer their help Rey would have probably growled at them.

 

She was wearing the bruise the biker had probably caused under her eye like a damn medal, her chin up, while the guy in handcuffs beside her didn’t look half as fierce, with his own black eye, a few missing teeth and clearly limping.

 

“This idiot decided it was a good idea to beat the shit out of his wife for the third time this month,” she had explained later, reporting to the Captain. “And then when we arrived he decided it was an even better idea to try and beat the shit out of me too.”  
  
Her superior gave her a resigned look, sighing.

 

“Poor Bastard. Resisting arrest and assaulting of an officer too then?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”   
  
“Do you want to take the rest of the day off?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Very well. Make yourself presentable and go back to work.”

 

As Rey marched toward the locker room, Flip resisted the urge to follow her, only to find Ron’s amused stare on him.

 

“What?” He asked defensively.

 

“You like her. You keep looking at her like she’s a damn kitten in a box of donuts. Adorable and delicious at the same time.”

 

“Nobody says that,” Flip pointed out, furrowing his brow.

 

“That doesn’t change the fact you like her.”

 

Flip rolled his eyes, evidently annoyed.

 

“You know, she and Patrice are friends? They were introduced at a Women Liberation movement meeting,” Ron suggested, shrugging his shoulders. “ You know, maybe we could hang out together sometimes, the four of us.”  
  
“This is a terrible idea.”

 

“Why?”

“You know why.”

 

“Is it the whole seniority thing?” It was Ron’s turn to roll his eyes, “Listen, you’ve always treated Niima with respect. You don’t call her ‘Sugar’ or ‘Sweetie’ You don’t ask her to bring you donuts, so asking her out politely will not make you a bad superior officer. You know what would make you an even better superior officer, though? Go into the locker room and see if she needs help with her wound. It looked pretty bad.”

 

“It was just a bruise.”  
  
“A bad bruise,” The dark-skinned officer insisted, a quite eloquent gesture of his hand showing him the way.

 

Flip took a long, deep breath, crossing his arms as he lowered his head in defeat.

 

“I’m doing this just because it’s the polite thing to do,” he explained as he started walking.

 

“Of course it is,” Ron chuckled behind him as Flip walked away.

  


***  
  
  
The locker room was silent as he entered, and Flip noticed that, besides Rey, there was no one else in there. Good, at least he wouldn’t have an audience as he made himself look ridiculous in front of her.

 

The woman was sitting on one of the benches, gingerly touching the spot darkening on her left cheek as she looked in the small mirror she was holding.

 

“Niima,” he greeted her cautiously, hands in his pockets.

 

“Detective Zimmerman,” she seemed surprised to see him, “Is there something you need?”

 

“No, no I-,” he cleared his throat, “I just wanted to check if you were alright.”

 

For some reason, she seemed almost disappointed. She lowered her gaze, putting the mirror back in her bag.

 

“You have nothing to worry about, detective Zimmerman,” she replied flatly without looking at him, “Despite what everyone thinks in this department, I’m not made of glass.”

 

“Never thought you were,” he replied almost instantly, furrowing his brow. “Only an idiot would think that. They’re probably just intimidated by the fact you could kick their asses any day of the week. While blindfolded, and with a hand tied behind your back.”  
  
Okay, maybe it was a little too much, but at some point, panic kicked in, and since her face lightened up a little as he complimented her, he kept complimenting and complimenting, until it became quite comical. God, he was a mess.

 

“Thanks,” she muttered as she stood up, “but you think too highly of me, I’m afraid.”

 

“Maybe you underestimate yourself,” Flip suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

 

Perhaps for the first time since he had known her, Rey smiled. Properly smiled, not some courtesy, close-mouthed smile she had to offer to some colleague. This was a warm, honest, bright one. It almost exploded uncontainable on her face, making her freckled nose wrinkle slightly as the cutest dimples ever appeared on her cheeks.

 

For a moment Flip’s mind went blank, blinded by that stunning sight. He barely registered that she had moved a couple of steps closer.

 

“You really know how to woo a girl, detective,” she teased. In a second of pure panic Flip realized that he had no idea if she was kidding or not.

 

His stomach had turned into a mess of tense knots. He tried to articulate, to say something but only a perplexed hum came out.

 

He had infiltrated the damn KKK and now this girl had turned him into a babbling idiot. What the fuck was wrong with him?

 

“Anyway,” Agent Niima spoke again, grabbing her bag from the bench. “I really have to go. See you around and happy Hanukkah.”

 

Flip gave her a vaguely surprised look.

 

“Are you Jewish?”

 

“No, one of my foster families was.”

 

“Oh, well, thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a brief smile before leaving the room.

 

As he watched her walking away, Flip barely resisted the urge to cover his face with his hands, sighing in frustration.

  


***  
  
  
Over the next few days, something weird started to happen. Small packages, which appeared to be Hanukkah presents, started appearing in the first drawer of his desk, carefully hidden by unwanted attention.

 

For every day of Hanukkah, he got a tiny, anonymous token. Every day a new one, and each and every one of those presents had been clearly chosen to match his tastes.

 

Whoever was doing this had quite remarkable detective skills.

 

By the eighth day, he had received his favorite brand of chocolate bar in his favorite flavor, a jar of homemade blueberry jam (also his favorite), a bottle of his favorite scotch, a handmade scarf in his favorite color (dark red), a pack of his favorite brand of cigarettes, a brand new Zippo lighter, a new plaid shirt of his favorite color but with a pattern slightly different from any other he already owned and finally a record of his second favorite country band.

 

After eight days there was still no sign of the mysterious benefactor, but a part of him really hoped Rey was responsible for it. After all, she was the only one who remembered when Hanukkah was.

 

Despite his suspicions, Rey’s general attitude hadn’t changed. She kept to herself, talking to him for strictly professional reasons. He only caught her gazing at him once as he opened his drawer, but this was only circumstantial evidence.

 

Being the man that he was Flip knew a thing like this would easily drive him insane, so he decided to put his detective skills to use after work.

 

It took him his entire day off, but after visiting three knitting shops, four liquor stores and a bunch of tobacco shops near the police station, he had a solid lead on his suspect. Brown short hair, pretty freckled face, slender frame and a police badge at her belt.

 

Did she want to play this way? Fine, he was all in then.

 

His counteroffensive started a couple of days after Hanukkah.

 

It began with a steaming cup of coffee from Rey’s favorite coffee shop on the other side of Colorado Springs. Flip made sure to arrive before her so he could place the hot beverage on her desk and watch her reaction when she came in.

 

He was reading a few reports at his desk when he saw her. The same adorable smile from the locker room appeared timidly on her face as she took the cup in her hands.

 

Rey didn’t look at him, but she didn’t search for any eyes on her around the room either. Hers was the attitude of someone who must have a suspicion about their secret admirer.

 

From his desk, Flip couldn’t say he was completely satisfied. In his ideal version of events, she would have lifted her gaze from the cup to look at him, aiming that sweet, warm smile directly at him, giving him the perfect occasion to make a move and ask her out. But he could wait, he was a patient man after all. Still, when the next day he found his favorite donut in his drawer he barely contained a smile of his own.

 

In the following days, the exchange continued wordlessly. Even if Flip couldn't help but appreciate the gifts, his frustration was growing, because nothing seemed to change in the practice.

 

Ron must have noticed what was going on at some point because he often gave Flip an irritating mix of knowing looks and pitiful smiles. Thank goodness he didn’t seem to have any intention of discussing the issue.

 

When Christmas Eve came through, his partner finally decided to address the matter with a quite tempting proposal.

 

“You know,” Ron said casually as they were both in their usual police car. “There’s a party tomorrow, Patrice and I are going, you should really come along.”  
  
“In case you didn’t remember, Jews aren’t exactly known for celebrating Christmas,” Flip reminded him.

 

“I wasn’t talking about a Christmas party,” his partner pointed out. “It’s Rey’s birthday.”

 

Flip’s brow furrowed in surprise.

 

“I didn’t know.”  
  
“Now you do,” Ron remarked with a smug smile.

  
  


***  
  
Flip Zimmerman forced himself not to squeeze Rey’s present too tightly. It was carefully hidden away in the pocket of his jeans.

 

As he entered the bar that Ron said was Rey’s favorite, Flip took the mental note to not look to nervous.

 

The music was a bit too loud and not exactly his genre, but the lights were warm and low, and the atmosphere wasn’t too bad.

 

He walked through the small crowd, looking around for a familiar face until what was probably his favorite face found him first.

 

“Detective Zimmerman!” Rey beamed at him, waving her hand a few feet away.

 

“It’s Flip,” he said as confidently as he could. “We’re not on duty,”

 

“Very well, Flip then.” she kept smiling, “Can I get you a beer, Flip?”

 

He noticed then, that Rey was actually wearing a skirt. He’d never seen her in a skirt before and this one was impressive. It was a tartan skirt in the shades of red that matched almost perfectly his flannel shirt and showed her long, freckled legs in a  flattering way.

 

Flip averted his eyes and forced himself to focus on her face, or his birthday present for Rey would have been a heart attack this year.

 

“You’re the birthday girl,” he remembered her with a crooked smile. “What if I get you one?”

 

“No way, you’re the senior officer,” That remark stung a little but he tried to not mind. “The first drink is on me.”

 

As they moved to the counter Rey leaned forward a bit to talk to the bartender, and a few seconds later she was handing him a beer, but not just any beer, his favorite brand.

 

He gave the bottle an intrigued look.

 

“This is actually my favorite,” he admitted,

 

“I know,” Rey gave him a smug smile. “I have good detective skills.”

 

He couldn’t help but smirk back. He knew that, he knew it very well.

 

 _So the game is still on_ , Flip considered in a little sigh of relief as he looked at his bottle, somehow impressed. _Still on and moving forward apparently_. At least they were actually talking now.

 

He was about to speak again when he saw a slim, dark-skinned hand grabbing Rey’s shoulder.   
  
Patrice’s wide smile greeted him before she turned to Rey.

 

“Let’s go dance, girl!” she suggested before turning her head to Flip, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “Flip, wanna join us?”

 

The problem was that he wasn’t exactly a fan of dancing, especially in public. His limbs were too long, his movements too goofy. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to make fun of himself in front of Rey.

 

“Maybe later?” he blurted out.

 

Patrice rolled her eyes in evident disappointment, her face basically screaming, _Do I have to do all the work here?_ But in the next moment she and Rey were disappearing in the crowd, leaving Flip alone and frustrated.

 

At this point, he needed a cigarette, maybe two, or maybe a whole pack.

 

Flip walked outside, stopping on the porch right out of the pub, the festive tone of the decorations around him didn’t match at all with his mood, at this point.

 

He was lighting up his first cigarette when he noticed something hanging above his head.

 

Mistletoe.

 

A part of him wanted to take it as a cruel joke, the other wanted to remain there, glued to that spot, just in case.

 

He was still deciding what to do when he heard a voice behind him.

 

“Can I have one?” Rey asked, moving closer, her arms hugging her torso to not get too cold.

 

Flip raised his eyebrow, now even more convinced that the spot under the mistletoe was a chance he could not miss.

 

He handed her a cigarette, lighting it up with his new metallic Zippo, the one she had gifted to him in secret.

 

The sight of the lighter stole a smile from her as she breathed in, but he didn’t comment.

 

“I almost forgot,” he quickly said before the silence got overwhelming, “Happy birthday,”

 

“Thanks,” she smiled, shrugging, “I’m not even sure it’s actually my birthday anyway, it’s just the day I was found in front of the firehouse,”

 

“Oh,” Flip’s heart clenched helplessly at the sudden revelation, “I-I’m sorry,”

 

“Don’t be,” Rey reassured him, her warm hazel eyes looking at him. “I’m exactly where I want to be at this point in my life.” Her word might have had a lot of different meanings, but his need to find out what she was talking about got sidetracked as she lifted her eyes, finding the mistletoe above their heads.

 

“Oh, mistletoe,” she remarked almost casually.

 

“I hadn’t noticed that.” He was too busy lying poorly, looking at the ornament above them, to notice the slim frame of Rey moving closer and raising on her tiptoes, her soft, pink lips brushing gently on the corner of his mouth.

 

“You really want me to do all the hard work, don’t you?” The woman murmured against his lips, her soft breath caressing him.

 

Flip’s mind went totally blank for a few seconds. So this was happening, at last. This was finally happening. Before he could think of something to say his massive hands found her hips, dragging her closer.

 

As his scruples finally found their rightful place in the garbage, his mouth found hers without much of a hesitation, his lips tasting, caressing, molding to hers as he almost forgot how to breathe.

 

Her arms encircled his neck almost instantly, her mouth responding eagerly to his as she hummed gently, clearly pleased by every new contact, every new taste.

 

The kiss felt even better than he ever imagined, and it was quite a statement considering how many times he had fantasized about it.   
  
Rey’s kiss fit perfectly with her personality. Her mouth was fierce and feisty, humming in approval as he let her cradle his face in her smaller, softer hands to push it further against her.

 

The kiss turned rapidly in a clash of eager tongues, teeth, tentative love-bites, and hot breaths.

 

As they finally separated, gasping for air, Flip realized he was feeling dizzy, his massive hands holding onto her as his life depended on it.

 

Rey, on the other hand, was smiling against his lips, the same warm smile of the locker room, a smile warm enough to make his heart clench and make him feel feverish.

 

“Ha-Happy birthday,” He found himself saying dumbly, too overwhelmed to think of something better.

 

The woman grin grew even wider, her smile turning into a soft chuckle.

 

“Thank you, I think I want my present, now.” She whispered, and Flip was so taken by the turn of the evening’s event that it took him a long moment and a quite suggestive look from her to realize what she meant.


End file.
